


The sun whispers to the birds

by Monoi



Series: A Song Yet To Be Sung [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monoi/pseuds/Monoi
Summary: The deep shadows under the Queen’s eyes confirmed what the servants were saying for weeks: the youngest Targaryen was a concentration of screams and power, and she does not easily give in to sleep. The Queen spent very long nights with her younger daughter in a vain attempt to put her to sleep, and nothing could do the suggestions of Lord Tyrion and Lady Brienne to convince her to leave the little one with the nannies. The only person able to convince her would be the King, but he was away for several months, to Dragonstone.





	The sun whispers to the birds

 

So, It’s been a long time but the most important thing is that I’m here with a new fluff episode of the series The Song Yet To Be Sung! Be aware that the amount of sugar in this one is very high. Let me know what you think about it and let me know all my mistake, because, remember, English is not my first language. Thank you!

 

* * *

The day was drawing to an end. Since King Jon and his two eldest sons, a few months before, had left for Dragonstone, the lessons with Maester Samwell had been suspended. However, Steffon missed the long afternoons spent in their company, with Ned and Aemon Targaryen. After school, the boys did not lose time and ran to see what was happening outside the Fort of Maegor. There was always something interesting to observe. Between the Royal Guard and the Tower of First Knight, not to mention the throne room, it was easy to make interesting encounters.  
Those afternoons dragged slowly, without the princes. Usually Steffon remained with the younger children, and after a few hours spent with Lyanna and Robb, their games were beginning to bore him. That afternoon, however, the Queen had joined them in the Summer Garden, and boredom had disappeared immediately from Steffon’s thoughts.

The boy admired King Jon and loved his wife, but to make him particularly happy was the bundle that the sovereign was carrying in her arms. At eight months, little Catelyn stared everything was around her with wide grey eyes, and did not seem to have plans to get quiet.

The deep shadows under the Queen’s eyes confirmed what the servants were saying for weeks: the youngest Targaryen was a concentration of screams and power, and she does not easily give in to sleep. The Queen spent very long nights with her younger daughter in a vain attempt to put her to sleep, and nothing could do the suggestions of Lord Tyrion and Lady Brienne to convince her to leave the little one with the nannies. The only person able to convince her would be the King, but he was away for several months, to Dragonstone.

The Queen, dressed in red and black as all the Targaryen, approached Steffon with a tired smile. Her dark hair was braided in a simple way, a typical northern style. Almost like a reflex, the boy moved closer to her with his arms raised, ready. Her eyes sparkled amused.

"Be careful Steffon, it’s better if others don’t understand when you enjoy something. They could use it against you."

"Why?" He asked in amazement, while the Queen rested Catelyn in his arms.

"Because they could take away what you care about most, just to hurt you" she added with a sad smile, while she approached the sofa where Robb was seated, busy turning the pages of an illustrated volume about Aegon the Conqueror.

Steffon focused on the pleased gurgles from little Catelyn, tugging strands of his hair as she laid her head on his shoulder, happily.

"Mother, could you sing us a song?" Lyanna asked with her sweet voice, while the Queen sat beside Robb, not without first having laid a kiss on the dark strands of the child.

"Lya, you know I am not good at singing... You should ask someone with a good voice and a good memory..."

"But no one here knows The Ballad of the Snow, I want to hear that!"

"Yes! The Ballad of the Snow! " Robb screamed, climbing on his mother's lap to be pampered "And then maybe Cat will sleep! " He suggested while embraced her, his blue eyes full of expectations. Everyone knew that the little boy loved the old northern ballads.

The uncontrollable laughter of the Queen had a strange effect inside Steffon’s chest. She was kind and affable with everyone, from nobles of the court to the most humble servants, but only when she was inside the shelter of her family she showed herself for what she was. When she laughed, the similarity with Lyanna was more evident.

Everyone said that the little girl with long, silver hair, was a Targaryen from head to toe, and only few plucked the resemblance to her dark haired mother. But when the Queen laughed and sang, as now, and whenever she abandoned herself to the tranquility of life with her children, one could see in her face all the expressions of joy, satisfaction, serenity which were often on the face of Lyanna.

But when the girl was looking serious and focused, when the signs of seriousness and determination ran through her grey eyes when something occupied her mind, then the little Targaryen was really equal to her mother. It was an aspect which she shared with her brother Ned: the determination, the will to go to the bottom of things, their stubbornness that led them to complete any goal they had. The King often said that they both were similar to the Queen.

"What have you done, you two," Lord Tyrion often joked with sovereign. "You have given birth to a generation of creatures where no one can distinguish dragons from wolves. You should create a new coat of arms and perhaps a new house...”

Suddenly, Steffon noticed that little Catelyn laid without moving with an open mouth drooling on his shoulder. Her regular breathing was blowing on his neck, and the small weight indulged without restraint to sleep.

He smiled proudly. Not even Aemon and Ned, who adored their little sister, were never able to put her to sleep. Who knows, maybe after their return from Dragonstone they might also trying to do it, but in the meantime he was the only one to enjoy the unconditional affection of that small northern earthquake.

"Psst, Steffon!" Lyanna whispered to him. "Our mother is asleep..."

The boy returned his eyes on the Queen. She was half lying on the sofa, her torso on the cushions, while an even arm encircled Robb around his shoulders. Her braid falling over her son's hair, the same colour. In the end, the fatigue had won her.

"Be gentle," he whispered "Lya, call Anel and make them bring something to cover her. She must be out here."

***

Some time passed, in the Summer Garden, while the Queen and her youngest daughter slept either. One with her arms wrapped around her three year old son, who was very happy to be close to his mother. The other, well wrapped in the strong arms of Steffon, who was very happy to rock her and kiss her dark hair. Lyanna was reading silently the book of Aegon the Conqueror. The boy watched the silver head on the book and was lost among the memories. He was about to fall asleep himself, sitting on cushions, with little Catelyn in the arms, so that between the sleeping thoughts he could almost hear the voices of Aemon and Ned.

Soon, footsteps echoed between the garden stones, and the sound became louder and sharper, until Steffon, half asleep, faced with the black figure of King Jon, flanked by his sons who observed the young Baratheon between amused and amazed looks. Lyanna was already in the arms of his father.

"Well?" The King asked, barely concealing a smile "All asleep? This is the way to greet our return?"

"I was not sleeping father! " Lyanna hastened to clarify, her arms around the neck of the King.

"Neither do I. Your Grace... I was just trying to get Catelyn down for a nap!".

"You? Why are you doing this? And why not our mother?" Ned asked quickly, as was his custom.

"The Queen does not sleep very well at night. Catelyn stays awake and cries all the time, it's hard to keep her quiet. So, every now and then the Queen bring her to me, so she can rest a little...”

"Really?" The King said, as he laid eyes on his sleeping wife, after putting down Lyanna who was now racing to embrace her brothers. King Jon’s lips curled upward and his eyes began to shine as he approached the Queen abandoned to sleep. First, he took Robb into his arms, half asleep himself, then the King turned his head again to his wife.

Steffon did not understand, did not know what was, between the King and Queen, to create those intense stares that the two exchanged. For sure, the boy was fascinated by the bond between the two sovereigns. He never knew his mother, and the memories of his father, Gendry Baratheon, were increasingly rare and faded down the memory. The adults he knew were not like the King and his Queen. No one exchanged silent glances and long smiles. No one of them approached their wife or husband, when no one was looking, to give a furtive caress or a quick hug.

The King gave Robb to his eldest son, who despite twelve years of age, began to make jokes to the little one, still half asleep. Steffon observed Aemon, already slim and quite tall for his age, which he had not seen for several months. The prince’s voice was deeper, he had gained more inches in height and even his shoulders were broader. He looked like his father, with his dark locks and long face. The travel clothing, black and red, highlighted the similarity between the two. If they were not for his eyes of that incredible shade of purple, no one would have seen in his features the memory of his mother, Queen Daenerys. Aemon Targaryen was a Stark from head to toe as his sister Lyanna was a Targaryen. Too bad that their eyes did not follow the correct scheme...

Steffon had seen Queen Daenerys once, as a child, when she was still alive and before his father died. He remembered those eyes very well, that beautiful and unearthly Queen, her Kingship, her silver hair. It was really curious how that particular detail of her hair had not been at all inherited by her only son, Aemon, but it only appeared on Lyanna, the daughter of the second wife of the King. Many were misled and were convinced that the little princess was the daughter of the first wife, the beloved dragon Queen.

Adding further confusion in the already complex family tree of the Targaryen was the silent Eddard, or rather Ned, as everyone called him. As he spoke with his sister, the two seemed almost twins, although of different ages. His face sported the same delicate features of Lyanna, with whom he also shared the colour of the irises. The grey Stark eyes was a fine show in those faces so typically Targaryen, so much that many had given up on figuring out who was the mother of the boy.

The prince was born with the name of Eddard Snow, in a village lost in the swamp of the Neck, and the King took his bastard child to King's Landing. Some even whispered that Ned's mother was a wildling who had followed King Jon from beyond the barrier, before he was King, and he was still called the White Wolf. The copper hues on the boy’s hair had many talking about an alleged kinship with Tormund Giantsbane, the leader of the free people who was a councillor of King Jon at that time. Maybe Ned's mother was a relative of Tormund. In reality, the truth was much closer than it seemed.

No one had noticed that Ned’s hair greatly resembled those of Brandon Stark, the young Warden of the North. Or perhaps those who had noticed the similarity, had dismissed the detail with the fact that he was the King's cousin, and that the auburn hair could have been inherited by the young Ned from his father’s side. Steffon rememberd Lord Tyrion talking about the particular Tully colours, sported by the young Warden of the North, and by his sister, the Lady of the Vale. Indeed Robb's eyes was the same of his aunt and uncle, that particular shade of blue so typical of the Tully family. But Steffon had realised the terrible mistake when he saw the family tree traced by Ned himself.

One day, a very talkative servant told Steffon that for a long time, the King and the his second wife believed to be brother and sister, and grew up together in Winterfell, as the children of Lord Eddard Stark, with Brandon and Sansa Stark. Only at the end of the Battle of the Dawn, when Aemon and Ned were five and two years old respectively, Queen Daenerys discovered that his husband was the secret son of his brother Rheagar and Lyanna, Lord Eddard Stark's sister. Half Stark, half Targaryen, the King was his wife's nephew and had a less strong recognition from the people of the North. That was an earthqauke, politically speaking, and Queen Daenerys forced the King to take a second wife: Arya Stark of Winterfell, the same girl he believed to be his sister, to gain more support from the man of the North.

And then, the rumors started to spread, because Lady Arya was pregnant. This story had kept Steffon awake, before falling asleep, for the implications entailed. Lyanna was conceived before the wedding. But, if Ned mother's was really Queen Arya, well, Ned was conceived threee years before.

The King, meanwhile, was leaning on the sleeping figure of the Queen, with his back to the children. Not even Steffon could see his expression, but probably he was still smiling. He moved a lock of hair from his wife's nose, tucking it behind her ear. Without a word, King Jon put his arms behind the shoulders and the knees of the Queen, scooping up her.

He turned and whispered to the children, who were watching him in silence. "I’m bringing her to bed. She must be really tired.” He made some steps toward the exit, when the voice of the Queen rose suddenly: "Tired, yes, but not so much to not wake up when a clumsy elephant lifts me up in this way.”

The King's eyes headed toward the face of his wife, seriously. "It seemed strange. And I thought you were tired because Catelyn doesn’t sleep enough.”

"Indeed, she is putting me to the test. I am sick of being locked in this keep... The next time you will go, I’ll come with you.”

"Did you miss us, or are you just tired of doing the housewife? " The King quipped while he was putting her down.

"Not you, not at all. But I missed my boys a lot!" She added, opening her arms, where the eldest Targaryen headed as lightning, while the King looked at her, giggling.

"You two have grown so much! Aemon, seven hells, you are just like your father when he was your age!"

"You always say that! " Ned countered instead, a pout in his face.

"But you are more and more adorable, little child. And not be jealous of your brother, with that pout you look exactly like you father!" the Queen said ruffling his hair. "According to Jorah Mormont, you resemble a lot your grandfather Rhaegar... Aemon, wait!"

The Queen was unable to prevent the heir to the throne from taking little Catelyn from Steffon’s arms. Long moments of silence awaited the reaction of the child. Until, with her eyes closed, the youngest princess Targaryen scowled, clenched his fists and opened her lips in an unearthly scream.

Within a few seconds, the Queen and Ned were around Aemon, trying to calm to the child, but to no avail. At some point even the King tried to calm her, but with little success.

"Perhaps the gods have sent me this daughter to punish me for all the headaches that I gave my mother and my father as a child..." the Queen said to her husband.

"Maybe. But why punish me? I was very good to you, I could make you stop crying instantly. " He said disconsolately to the Queen, looking into her eyes.

"You weren’t good, Jon. I was the one that favoured you to all the others..."

"And now, what can we do with her?”

"Look Jon, and learn." The Queen answered, carrying Catelyn and heading towards Steffon. As soon as the baby was laid on the solid arms of the young Baratheon, the screaming stopped instantly.

The Queen looked smug and smirking towards the King, who kept looKing Catelyn and Steffon, with a look of amazement and horror, and again Steffon and Catelyn. Something was going on inside his mind.

"That is not a thing to laughing about." He concluded, frowning.

Steffon did not understand what was wrong there. But the concern of the King disappeared as soon as the Queen clasped his shoulders with her arms.

"Now that Catelyn is quiet, how about you take me to bed?"

The King's eyes flashed for a moment. "Aye, my lady."

 


End file.
